Two Weeks
by Lady Emma Wentworth
Summary: Two weeks in Glasgow with Archie has its consequences. Told Miss Beeb I was taking the boys out for a riverside picnic. There will be skinny-dipping!


**Two Weeks**

Ianto Jones stepped off the train and took a deep breath of invigorating Welsh air. _'Oh, how I've missed this!'_ He stretched his arms high over his head and shook the kinks out of his legs; his six-hour journey had taken almost eight-and-a-half due to problems on the tracks and his arse was numb from sitting so long.He had just spent the last two weeks up in Glasgow having been seconded to Torchwood Two. His job? To sort out the past six months' worth of Archie MacDonald's half-arsed method of archiving and filing, meaning Ianto had found himself knee-deep in lopsided stacks of practically illegible reports and jumbled boxes of things Archie _thought_ were alien artefacts but which were in fact mostly just bits and bobs from car boot sales.

Before the Battle of Canary Wharf, the task of keeping Glasgow at least semi-tidy and organised had fallen to Torchwood London. Now, as Torchwood's only surviving archivist, bringing the irascible Scotsman and his man-cave of an office up-to-date was now Ianto's semi-annual duty.

Stepping out of the way of travellers rushing to and fro, Ianto scanned the crowd, looking for one man in particular but not seeing him. Resigned to taking a taxi to the Hub thanks to whatever Weevil or Rift emergency had cancelled his ride, he sighed with disappointment, hefted his bags and headed for the main door of the station and the taxi rack only to be stopped dead in his tracks when someone grabbed his backpack.

Whirling around, ready to do battle, Ianto found himself staring into a pair of twinkling blue eyes and a smiling mouth full of pearly white teeth.

"Car's this way," the man grinned as he took Ianto's bags and led the way out to the carpark and the intimidating black SUV.

However, instead of finding the official Torchwood vehicle, Ianto discovered his beloved Audi waiting for him. Most of him was beyond delighted to see his oh-so-clean and well-maintained car; he'd been forced to drive Archie's broken down forty-year-old Vauxhall Chevette with its rusted-out wheel wells, wonky brakes and steering, and a pervasive smell of cigarettes, cabbage and whiskey. Still, there was a small part of Ianto that was bit peeved that Jack 'break every speed limit and driving law ever written' Harkness had put his giant clodhopper of a boot to the gas pedal in the first place, even if it was to do Ianto a favour and pick him up.

Jack tucked Ianto's bags into the Audi's boot and gently closed the lid – he knew how touchy the Welshman was about anyone slamming the car's doors. As the two men settled into their seats, Ianto turned the key in the ignition, taking a moment to enjoy the lovely purr of the engine, a moment that was interrupted by Jack.

"Missed you, Jones, Ianto Jones."

Ianto glanced around before pulling into traffic and then looked at Jack for a brief but telling moment. "Same here," he smiled fondly. "Oh, before I forget, Archie sends his best and says you still owe him twenty quid and a bottle of _very_ old single malt."

Jack grinned. "Oh, yeah… forgot all about that."

A comfortable silence fell as Ianto deftly wove the Audi through Cardiff's rush hour traffic and a short time later, they were parking in front of a small cottage on a quiet side street not too far from Roald Dahl Plass.

The front door was barely locked and his great coat hung up before Jack Harkness had his husband pinned to the wall by a bruising, breathless kiss. He grabbed Ianto's wrists and raised his hands above his head, using them and his groin to keep the man against the wall. He pulled back slightly and stared hungrily at his lover.

"Two weeks," he growled. "Fourteen days…" Jack reclaimed Ianto's lips, pressing their bodies together from mouth to thigh. Frantic hands fumbled with belts and zippers and there was the sound of clothing hitting the floor. When the men finally broke their kiss and gulped in some badly needed oxygen, it took Ianto several moments before he was able to formulate coherent words.

"Jack, as much as I'd love to shag you right here and now, I'm dirty from travelling and I need a shower…"

Without warning, the immortal smacked himself sharply on the forehead and spun away from Ianto. "Showers! I forgot all about the showers!" With his trousers tangled around his boots, it took an awkward shuffle to get over to his great coat.

Ianto had to bite his lip to keep from laughing at the sight of Jack's bare arse cheeks hanging out beneath his shirt tails while his trousers and pants dragged along the ground. A tiny part of the Welshman's brain registered that Jack had clearly done the laundry correctly, since his Y-fronts were still sparkling white and not some weird shade of puce.

When Jack found whatever he'd been searching for in his coat pockets he crowed triumphantly and spun back around to face Ianto, nearly falling over in his haste. Seeing Jack's fully erect cock sticking out between the flaps of his shirt and waving at him was just too much for Ianto and he burst into gales of raucous laughter, holding his belly and sliding bonelessly down the wall to the floor.

Fortunately for his ego, Jack wasn't paying any attention to his giddy mate. He was too busy doing sums in his head and ticking unspoken things off on his fingers. Jack scribbled something on the paper and then waved it at Ianto, grinning like a maniac.

"I cannot _believe_ I forgot to put shower sex on my list!"

Frowning at Jack, Ianto's laughter disappeared as quickly as it had appeared. "What list, Jack? What are you up to?"

The immortal shuffled back over to Ianto. "Two weeks, Yan! We haven't had sex in _two whole_ _weeks_ and I've written down every single one that we've missed." Jack was fairly vibrating with excitement. "Each and every time!"

With a growing sense of dread, Ianto slowly took the crumpled piece of paper from Jack's hand, smoothed it out and began to read. In big bold letters across the top he saw,

LIST OF CATCH-UP SEX

2 weeks = 14 days

14 morning wake-up sex

14 night-time/bed time sex

10 quickies in the Archives and greenhouse

7 office blowjobs

5 Weevil-hunting rewards

5 miscellaneous opportunities around the Hub

And hastily scribbled at the bottom of the paper was,

10 shower sex

A quick count in his head brought a gasp to Ianto's lips. "Jack, there's sixty-five items on your list! Sixty-five!" His voice squeaked.

Jack nodded eagerly. "Yup!" He popped the 'P' like Ianto had done so many times before. "So, we should probably get started!" He grabbed Ianto's hand, stood him up and then started pulling him down the hall toward their bedroom, doing an uncoordinated but entertaining hop-along shuffle in order to not fall over his own trouser-bound feet.

"Jack! I really need a shower!" Ianto protested even as he followed willingly. "I think I'm starting to smell." There was more than a touch of a whinge to his words.

"Great!" Jack stopped at the foot of their bed and stripped off his clothes in record time before turning to help Ianto off with his. "We can cross off at least one of those ten shower scenes we've missed!"

 _Several Hours Later_

Ianto was slowly and reluctantly dragged from a sound sleep and a spectacular dream wherein he was enjoying an enormous T-bone steak, medium rare just the way he liked it, topped with succulent mushrooms in a delicate wine, butter and garlic sauce and accompanied by a lovely jacket potato dressed with butter and crumbled crispy bacon. As he became more awake, Ianto became very aware of two things. One, Jack's lips were kissing their way across the back of his neck, and two, Jack's cock was poking the left cheek of his arse.

"Hmmm…" Jack nuzzled the sensitive skin behind Ianto's ear. "Oh, you're awake!" Delighted by this turn of events, Jack's cock became even harder and more insistent in its bid for attention.

"Jack," Ianto yawned wide enough to crack his jaw. "You _do_ realise that we cannot possibly make it through your sex list in one night, right? Right?"

"Yeah," Jack turned Ianto onto his back, knelt between his legs and reached under the pillow for the lube he'd left there earlier. "But we can make one hell of a start!"

With a snort of fond but exasperated amusement, Ianto pulled Jack down into a searing kiss. "Yes, we can, Cariad, yes, we can."

End


End file.
